Puppet Master
by Cara Mia
Summary: X2 - My take on what should have happened if Logan's late night visitor had been the REAL Jean Grey


Title: Puppet Master  
  
Movie: X2  
  
Pairing: Logan/Jean  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters etc etc etc… Don't sue me, cuz I don't have any   
money anyways.  
  
Summary: This is my take on what should have happen if Logan's late-night visitor had been the   
*real* Jean Grey.  
  
A/N: This is my first X-men fanfic of any kind, so please bear with me if you think it's horrible.   
R&R, please.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
Logan's Tent:  
  
It was late… Logan never wore a watch, so he couldn't be exactly sure of the actual time. But the   
inky darkness of the night that surrounded them and the cacophony of the tiny woodland   
creatures assured him that the hour was late.  
  
The camp was quiet. The teenagers had long since gone to bed, Magneto and Mystique had   
disappeared within the privacy of their tent and Kurt and Ororo whispered quietly in conversation   
by the crackling campfire. He didn't want to think of where the group's other companion was.  
  
Jean… the object of his affection. She was like the forbidden fruit that had tempted Adam. And   
what a temptress she was. Her quiet happiness upon his return, spoken through her voice and   
echoed in the way her emerald green eyes had smiled upon him… right before she'd turned his   
back on him and planted a kiss on Scooter's cheek.  
  
God he would love to hate him! Hate the fact that it was he that slept beside her every night,   
holding her in the warmth of his arms. It was him that got to make love to her, leaving behind his   
primal stamp that she was his woman. Scott's… not Logan's.  
  
And so, Logan lusted. Making her cheeks heat with his suggestive innuendo, his playful touching.   
And all the while, the need for her grew and indeed festered behind his cool hazel eyes that   
skillfully hid the sting of the fact that she could and would *never* be his, and while he had been   
off on his quest to find himself and learn who he was, it had not slackened in the least.  
  
But tonight, he had finally given in to temptation. He had finally kissed her. And what a kiss it had   
been. At first she'd been frozen and he'd had the niggling fear that she'd pull away and leave him   
standing… alone. But it had only been a heartbeat before she'd moaned and kissed him back.   
Indeed, Jean had become the aggressor, her tongue probing at the seam of his mouth before he   
opened it and her tongue swept in to battle with his.  
  
All to soon, she'd pulled away, and his heart constricted as he watched the regret flood into the   
dark green swirls of her eyes. She'd stepped away and dropped her gaze. "Don't make me do   
this, Logan," she'd said quietly.  
  
Logan kissed her softly, praying to the Almighty that she wouldn't say what he thought she would.  
  
She averted her face once more. "This." Finally she met his gaze and he knew the moment was   
over… she would be gone.  
  
And she did leave. She'd turned her back and bounded up the stairs of the jet, leaving him there   
in the cold… alone and achingly hard.  
  
He cursed his luck, cursed the Gods, but most of all, cursed him self for thinking that someone   
like him could ever be with someone like Jean.  
  
And so now, he lay awake, flat on the hard ground in his tent. Listening, smelling, feeling, but   
more importantly, hurting.   
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
The Blackbird:  
  
*He'd kissed me!*   
  
Hours later, Jean Grey was still in a state of shock. Her lips still tingled in memory and the warmth   
still swirled low in her belly as she thought of it.  
  
In her dreams, she quite ashamedly had thought countless times of kissing the Wolverine. And   
she had thought of naught much else, between her nightmares, since he'd returned to the   
mansion. She could remember sprinting down the hallway like a lovesick teenager upon realizing   
Logan was once again home. Only pride and common sense had kept her from vaulting over the   
stairs into his arms.  
  
So she'd slowly descended the ornate staircase, coolly holding his gaze as she came to stand   
before him. She'd welcomed him back, detached and polite as ever, while meanwhile butterflies   
fluttered in her stomach as he said her name as only he can.  
  
**Jeannie** Instead of being annoyed with his over excessive use of the childish nickname, his   
voice grated huskily over the two simple syllables, and her insides were reduced to a mass of   
quivering female flesh. But she'd ignored the promise in that word, and the promise in his eyes,   
but her resolve was wearing thin, and only Scott coming down the stairs saved her.  
  
The animosity between the two had immediately surfaced. Scott was politely brusque, while   
Logan was as sarcastic as ever. Some things never changed. Scott was like an Alpha male   
around Logan. And though Logan usually viewed his show of possessiveness with his signature   
sarcastic amusement, she barely caught a flicker of pain and a jaw clench.   
  
This was shocking. This show of affection had never seemed to truly bother him before. But   
things were different, he had been gone for almost a year and God knows what else had   
changed. Jean couldn't deal with this. Not then, at least. She'd turned her back on Logan, and   
dutiful as ever, planted a reassuring kiss on Scott's cheek and disappeared.   
  
She hadn't spoken to either man for the rest of the night, and then both she and Scott had been   
called into duty. But she'd seen the hurt in Scott's eyes when she's began daydreaming and knew   
that he knew whom she'd been thinking about.   
  
This recent turn of events hadn't helped anything. Logan had cracked, he'd given into the impulse   
that floated between them to actually act on the feelings that were between them.   
  
**It's nothing serious.** Jean tried to convince herself. **Purely lust** a need to find out for herself   
and based in reality what would happen if they gave into their feelings. Otherwise, it would always   
act as a stumbling block, between her relationship with Scott and even with her relationship with   
Logan.  
  
She was conscious that she was trying to justify cheating on her fiancé. But it didn't matter. Logan   
was the Puppet Master, and he inexplicably drew her to him, but still that justification was   
necessary. Her mind was made up. She left the jet.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Logan bolted upright as the tent flap was shoved away. His claws simultaneously unleashed and   
he rolled into a crouch, ready to slice and dice whoever dared to disturb his "sleep". He was   
momentarily stunned as he recognized his visitor and his claws instantly retracted.   
  
"Jeannie?" he called softly, as he stared at her. Her eyes held his, even in the dark, and her   
breathing was heavy. Slowly she padded over to him and, still holding his gaze, sank onto his lap.   
Her mouth captured his before he could say anything else.  
  
She was amazed at the intense heat that instantly swirled into her stomach as she felt his wicked   
tongue stroke the roof of her mouth.  
  
He broke the kiss and moved to say something, presumably to ask her, what she was doing. But   
she shushed him quietly before kissing him again, and molding her body to his.  
  
Logan had merely intended ask her if she was sure of what she was doing. He was in no frame of   
mind to be teased by her again. If that was all she'd intended, he wasn't sure of what he would   
do. But they way she'd responded, dispelled any such thoughts, and simple pure lust took control.  
  
Their kisses were not tender. His hands settled on her hips and he grinded the increasing   
evidence of his desire into the sensitive juncture between her thighs. Even through her jeans, she   
could feel him, and the heat starting pooling moistly between her thighs.  
  
Jean gasped as she felt a callused hand slip beneath her shirt and softly caress the sensitive skin   
of her stomach, just as Logan's tongue gently swirled in the sensitive shell of her ear and his   
teeth gently tug on her lobe. Her hands slipped into the surprisingly soft hair of his head as she   
arched her back and undulated her hips under his ministrations.  
  
Logan gritted his teeth as the denim rubbed over his hardness, and he fought for control. His   
hand journeyed higher and he gently cupped a firm breast encased in a lacy turquoise brassiere.   
He cocked an eyebrow at the colorful undergarment and realizing he'd stopped stroking her, Jean   
started to giggle as she realized the source of his bafflement.   
  
"Just because my clothes are conservative doesn't mean my underwear has to be, too," she said   
saucily. Logan chuckled, and the awkward tension beneath the lust was broken.  
  
"I'm glad. I like it," replied Logan huskily, as he pushed the T-shirt up and off her, leaving her   
exposed on his lap. His breath caught as he surveyed her beauty. Smooth, creamy skin, a   
shocking contrast to the bright brassiere, perfectly set off lush, firm breasts, straining against the   
lacy cups that encased them. Logan dipped his head and inhaled the scent wafting from her   
cleavage. A scent that was uniquely Jean. It was driving him mad, and he could feel his control   
snapping. She begun rocking her hips and if she didn't stop doing that he would toss her on her   
backside, rip her jeans and fuck her senseless.  
  
She must have read his mind, because her eyes darkened and she rocked faster.  
  
"Jeannie. Stop it," he begged. "I don't want to hurt you."  
  
Jean lifted her hands to her chest, his palms flush against her nipples beading behind the lace.   
"You could never hurt me, Logan. I want you. Give it to me," she commanded huskily.  
  
He did just that. He flipped them, keeping his full weight off of her. Ravenously he kissed her,   
delighting in the beauty of her body, as he stripped off her jeans, and gazing at her in the   
outrageous turquoise bra and its sinful matching thong. Jean spread her thighs daring him, with   
sight and smell. Daring him for a taste. All thoughts of propriety flew out her head as she gazed at   
the bulge straining behind his fly.   
  
"Logan," she begged.  
  
He snapped. With a feral growl, Logan stripped off her flimsy underwear just as she unbuttoned   
the fly of his jeans and reached for him. He kicked off his jeans, and gazed at her naked body,   
open and beneath him… waiting for him.  
  
There was no time for foreplay. That damn year of teasing and flirting and "innocent" touching   
had been enough foreplay. He spread her thighs and grasped her hips and without warning,   
thrust deep into her warmth. Jean moaned as he slid into the hilt. She felt so good… so full. It   
was *Amazing*.   
  
Logan stilled, buried deep in Jean, her moist warmth surrounding him. He groaned as Jean flexed   
her hips. He couldn't help but thrust back. She felt so good, he felt like he was coming home. As   
he thrust deeper into her, Jean wrapped her thighs around his hips, and Logan entwined their   
fingers over her head. He wouldn't let her hide herself from him and he loved her with his body.   
  
Logan whispered her name as he thrust harder and deeper into her. She lifted her head and   
gently kissed him. That tenderness threatened to break the heart he hadn't even known existed   
until he'd met her.  
  
He flipped them bringing Jean up on top. Palming her hips hard enough to bruise, she   
encouraged him to ride him. He committed this picture to memory. Her eyes gripped his as she   
rode him, as a burning sensation that started in the pit of her stomach spread throughout her   
body. The look in his eyes told her he was close too, but she knew he would never let himself   
finish before her. that knowledge flooded her heart as she began feeling her self letting go.   
  
"Logan!" she called softly. "Oh God, Logan!" It didn't even matter that she was calling loudly in a   
camp full of sleeping people. All that mattered was that she was about to have perhaps the   
biggest orgasm of her life.  
  
Logan flipped them again, and he thrust faster into her. She catapulted over the edge. "Oh God,   
please don't stop! Don't stop! Logan!" she cried out, as she climaxed. The bright light exploded in   
her head, and she felt sure that she'd died.  
  
Feeling her internal muscles clenching him, Logan's controlled snapped and the beast was   
released. He thrust harder into her, and Jean just kept climaxing, sobbing his name, as she   
clenched him over and over again. Finally, he sped toward that vortex of light, and groaning her   
name loudly, and gripping her hips tightly enough to bruise, he buried his face in her sweaty   
throat, and started to come, her tight walls milking his seed.  
  
Finally spent he collapsed on her, both their bodies were slick with sweat, and they struggled to   
collect their breath. Logan rolled onto his back, bringing her to rest on his chest. Minutes seemed   
like hours as they passed as still they said nothing. He was still buried in her, and he was still   
hard. **Damn healing factor!**  
  
Finally, Jean raised her head. "Thank you," she said softly.  
  
Logan's heart broke. He said nothing as he reached between their bodies and with a groan,   
pulled out of her. she would leave and nothing like this would ever happen again.   
  
"Anytime," he replied sarcastically.  
  
Jean blushed. "There won't be a next time," she said softly… regretfully.  
  
Logan's head jerked up at that. But he knew it was true. Jean was too good a person to ever   
callously hurt Scott by being with Logan. And she would never disrespect him further by   
continuing this affair with Logan. But knowing she cared a little meant something.  
  
He watched her, as she dressed hurriedly and he savored the taste of her mouth and the smell of   
her hair and body as she gently kissed him, with such finality, it threatened to bring tears to his   
eyes.   
  
"Good night Logan."  
  
As Logan lay awake, torturing himself by remembering what had transpired in the last hour, he   
knew that if by some weird twist of fate, Jean came to him again, he would oblige her, even if it   
meant slowly torturing himself. She was the Puppet Master, and he was under her spell.  
  
THE END  
  
A/N: Well, R&R, tell me what you think. I look forward to hearing from you. 


End file.
